Make You Feel
by Bloody-Destination
Summary: This is a story about Doakes and Dexter. Doakes finally figures out why Dexter always fakes his emotions while having Dexter handcuffed. This is slash. DoakesXDexter. Yoai. Sex. Dub-con. If you do not like then don't read. If you do then what you read is on you, not me. This is an Easter gift. Please enjoy. Dexter does not belong to me. one-shot


**Make You Feel**

**Happy Easter Everyone! Took me forever to finish this. I have been writing this since the beginning of January. This is my Easter gift to all of you. Though it has nothing to do with Easter, but still. **

**P.s.**

**Can someone tell me the point of Easter? How did this holiday come to be? I'm sort of confused. **

**Anyway…**

**I just love this pairing. There needs to be more of them. I made my own. This is my awesome story of Dexter X Doakes. There may be sequel or something of the like, maybe a romance to go along. Please tell me what you think. REVIEW!**

Doakes eyed the shorter man, his fake smile always in place. Fake, that was what the dirty blonde was. His smile, his mood, the fact that he was practically friends with every mother fucker in the building, constantly changing himself to make them think he was like everyone else. But James Doakes knew exactly who Dexter Morgan was, a fake. He was hiding something, and damn it, it got on the man's nervous.

For all the times he had seen those fake emotions, he wanted to see something real. It irked him that someone could be so fake, no real emotions ever coming to the forefront. No real happiness, or sadness. No pain or anger. Just a front, every last fucking thing was made up with this piece of shit. He would have at least been content with his coworker if he just didn't show any emotions. At least then he wouldn't have to see the stupid smile that was painstakingly not supposed to be there.

Like always, the blood spatter analyst stayed the latest, always on his computer doing some shit or another. He always stayed as well, keeping an eye on the man. He was on the force too long to let some fucking shit like Dexter come in, pretending, making a fool of them, of him. No way in hell was he going to let this shit keep whatever fuck up secret he had.

He stood up from his desk, slowly, quietly, and marched his way to the younger man's office. He forced the door open, hitting the wall with a loud bang. Dexter jumped up, turning to face door and the dark skinned man who flung it open. His eyes were wide with surprise. After the initial shock wore off, Dexter let out a small, fake, laugh. It was a nervous laugh though, Doakes could tell at least that was real.

"Sergeant Doakes, is there anything I can do for you?" he asked, his fake smile right where it shouldn't belong.

He walked into the office, slamming it shut behind him, "There's something not right with you, Morgan."

Dexter scrunched his lips together before saying, "You already made that clear a few times, Sergeant."

"I can't stand you, you fake mother fucker." He said, walking closer to the man, "You make me want to beat the fucking shit out of you."

He nodded slowly, "Again, already covered this topic. I really don't see why you are so against me. I've never done anything to make you, well, mad."

Doakes stood mere inches from the blood spatter analyst, "The way you act makes mad. The way you fucking think your little act gets to me. Well, it does and it gets on my fucking nervous. For once, get rid of that god damn smile. It makes me want to throw up. Where in the fucking shit do you think you're bullshit acting is getting you."

"It seems to be working so far, Sergeant." Dexter laughed, "And apparently, no one else holds the same notion as you. You may be sick and tired of me, but I am sick and tired of you. Maybe if you let whatever your problem is go, then you wouldn't have so much of an issue."

"Or, maybe, if you lose the fake act then there would be no issue. What the fuck are you hiding under all your fucking bullshit?" The smile on Dexter's lips became strained.

"I really am tired of your suspicion, Doakes. Let it go." He said.

He turned around, gathering up the assortment of papers and sliding them very meticulously into his bag. He turned back around, putting the bag over his shoulder, facing the Sergeant.

"I'm going home. I'm tired and I don't feel like dealing with this shit so late at night." He said, walking past Doakes, "Goodnight, Doakes."

Just as Dexter reached the door, his arm was grabbed and forcibly pulled back. He let out a yelp as he was thrown to the ground, bag sliding across the small office.

"I asked you a question, Morgan, and I expect an answer." He said, standing over the stunned analyst, "What the fuck are you hiding?"

The smile was gone. To Doakes' surprise, there were no emotions showing on the downed man. Dexter eyed him, almost close enough to be called a glare, but otherwise did nothing.

"What the fuck is your problem?" He asked, unnerved by the emotionless stare.

"You asked me what the fuck I am hiding. If you want to know, then there it was." Dexter said, confusing Doakes more, "I don't feel emotions, so I 'fake' as you so commonly put it. It helps me fit in."

"What the fuck?" Doakes said, "What the fuck are you? Sounds like some psychopath bullshit."

Dexter only eyed him, "This is what I've been hiding. So are you content now?"

He ignored the question, "You can't feel at all? What the fuck kind of thing is that?"

Dexter rolled his eyes, attempting to stand, only to be pushed back down. A hand was on his chest, holding him there. He looked to the now hunched over Doakes, sitting on his ankles. Said man was looking at the blonde with a critical eye.

"You really are seriously fucked up." He stated.

In a spree of the moments thought, Dexter balled up his fist, sending it colliding into Doakes face. He reeled back, not really hurt but surprised enough to fall back. Dexter hopped to his feet, racing towards the door only to be tackled down.

"Well, the mother fucker has fast reflexes." He heard from the man on top of him, "And a pretty decent left hook."

Dexter jolted up, loosening Doakes' hold on him, giving him enough space to shake the man off. Even before he was up, hands on his arms were pulling the thinner man further into the office. He landed in a heap on his back with an audible 'uuf'. Doakes was on him again holding his hands down by his head and straddling his narrow hips.

"What do you want, Doakes?" Dexter ground out, gritting his teeth.

He smirked, "Now there is the real Dexter. Tell me, are you angry? I though you couldn't feel anything."

"I'm agitated." Dexter said, "What's the point of this?"

His smirk grew, "I want to see how much shit you can actually feel for real. No more fake fucking crap."

Dexter sighed, pushing his head up slightly and bringing it back down onto the hard floor, "Out of everyone I've met, you are the most infuriating."

He laughed, "Don't hurt yourself on my account."

Dexter closed his eyes, "Get whatever you want out of the way. I'm tired and don't feel like being here all night."

"What, no more, 'I'm friendly little fuckin Dexter' routine?" Doakes asked.

"Obviously not."

Doakes took one hand away, slowly, carefully, watching for any movement from the still figure beneath him, his eyes still closed. He silently took the cuffs from his waist, snapping it closed around  
Dexter's free wrist. His eyes opened, looking to the cuff. He circled the chain around the heavy metal desk leg mere less than a foot away from his captives head and attached it to the other wrist.

"What happened to your fight, Morgan?" Doakes asked as he watched the limp man beneath him.

He shrugged, "I told you. I'm tired. I want to get this over with so I can go home."

"You don't even know what I plan on doing."

"Do you?" The question caught the sergeant off guard. He honestly didn't know what he planned to do, "You really don't know what you're doing."

"Shut the fuck up, Morgan." He ordered and received a sigh, "I have to think about how I'm going to make you feel."

Dexter snorted, "You're going to make me feel? How romantic."

"The fuck you say, Morgan." He said this more quietly than before, looking at the expressionless face beneath him.

"The last time I heard a line like that was when Deb put me on a blind date in high school." He snorted again.

"Do I look like some high school date to you?" He demanded.

Dexter scrunched up his noise, "I'm sure quite a few teenage girls wouldn't mind going at it with you. Not sure about you but I'm not really in to the whole romantic thing."

"You can't just not feel anything." Doakes said, "You have to feel something."

"Sure, I guess some primal instincts, hunger, exhaustion, I'm guessing lust as well. I sometimes get a bit agitated when things don't go right." Dexter said, pulling a bit on the cuffs.

"Huh." The dark skinned man said, "_Lust_? You guess?"

"Actually, I'm not really sure? It's mostly just a feeling caused by chemicals in the brain making you feel some sort of bodily attraction to another. So I'm guessing I still do feel lust." Dexter shrugged.

"Lust." He laughed, "So, what, you never felt lust before, never done it."

"I try not to give into my more _primitive_ urges but it is technically something I can feel. Why are we talking about this?" Dexter looked up at him in what Doakes could only guess as boredom.

"Because, jackass, I'm going to make you feel." He smirked down at Dexter and at that moment, he realized what the man meant.

"You have got to be kidding me." He hit his head against the floor again.

Doakes took out the blade from his back pocket, Dexter watching him the whole time. He brought it to the top of his shirt, slicing off all of the buttons with one quick cut. It slipped down to either side of Dexter, exposing his thin midsection though there was a slight hint of muscle. It was a complete contrast to Doakes. He exercised daily, showing off his build to intimidate the scum he went after. But the muscles were there, just hidden behind his small frame and loose button up shirts.

He put the knife back in his pocket and began working on Dexter's belt, "Damn, you're thin. Did you have an eating disorder as well?"

"It's called eating healthy." Dexter retorted, "I don't pack my diet with hamburgers and steak."

Dexter grunted as the belt was pulled off of him forcefully, "Protein, bitch. It might actually put some real muscle on you."

"Are you sure it's muscle? You could be mistaking it for fat." He joked.

Dexter yelped, closing his eyes forcefully as he was grabbed through his pants. He tried to pull away from the touch but only received a more firm grip for his struggling. Doakes groaned as the hand began to need him through his pants.

"What, no more smart-ass comments, Dexter?" Doakes asked as he continued to stroke the younger man below him, enjoying the pleasurable noises coming from his lips and the way he slowly got hard as he continued.

Dexter gasped as the hand holding him squeezed once more, "S-stop, damn it."

Doakes let go to Dexter's great relief. He stood up, moving to his feet and grabbed hold…. Dexter instinctively tried to pull his foot back but the strong grip stopped him. His shoes and socks were soon discarded and he was once again back in his previous position. He smirked down at the flustered man as he ran his hand over the exposed chest. Stopping at his pants, he undid them, yanking them off along with his boxers.

"You like this, don't you?" Doakes chuckled as he began to need Dexter's member once more.

Doakes groaned as his own manhood pressed tightly against his pants. The sound of Dexter's mewls and whimpers edging him on. It took all of the restraint he learned on the force to stop himself from taking the analyst then and there. But he had to wait. He had to wait till Dexter begged, till he actually stopped his goddamn façade and begged. And he would definitely make him beg. He had no doubt.

"Have you ever had this type of _feeling_ before, Dexter?" He asked with a smirk locking his eyes with half lidded ones.

His breath came out in raged pants as he answered, "No, and I would like to keep it that way."

"Then I'm your first." He laughed, "Little virgin bitches are always the best."

Dexter gave an involuntary shudder as the words were whispered into his ear, the hot breath, a tickle against his sensitive skin. He gasped as Doakes squeezed his member and shivered as the man began to stroke him, slow at first but gradually sped up, reducing Dexter to a withering ball of pleasure. But he still wasn't begging and to Doakes, that wouldn't do.

He used his knees to spread the younger man's legs wide apart. His menstruations distracting the dirty blonde from noticing the action. He ran his fingers over the leaking member, rubbing the precum on his pointer and middle finger and slowly slide it into his whole. The man below him let out a hoarse scream of pleasure. Doakes couldn't help but groan as his fingers were swallowed; wishing desperately that it was his dick that was going into his tight ass. He moved them in and out, curling and scissoring all the while. As he slowly moved, the walls around his digits clamped around him, and a muffled scream, more sounding like a yelp, escaped the analyst's lips.

"I know you want it, Morgan. Just ask, no, beg for it and I'll give it to you." Doakes chuckled, looking down at his prey, and that is what Dexter was, his prey.

"Go fuck yourself and leave me out of it." Dexter gritted out, attempted to hold back his moans and gasps but failing utterly, "Damn it Doakes, what's the point in this?"

"I thought it might be fun." He laughed silently as the man glared at him and he couldn't help but feel it was cute. The glare was completely ineffective from the half lidded eyes and mewls coming from his slightly parted lips, "Just beg and this will be over so much more quickly. Come on, Dexter, beg. I won't tell anyone, just between me and you. If you can't feel anything then why not just beg."

"Because, it is still degrading. You should be lucky if I don't kill you after this." This only caused Doakes to smile as he slowed down his stroking pace bringing a groan from the analyst, "How long does this usually take."

"All night if it has to. Or, it could take another hour, depending on how long it takes for you to beg me to take you." He said, completely stopping his menstruations.

"Damn it." Dexter yelled out, repeatedly banging his head on the floor then stopped, "Fine, just get this over with! Doakes, fucking take me you god damn bastard! Fuck me already, I. beg. You!"

He laughed loudly at the aggravated tone his voice took on, "Now is that any way to beg? I don't think so. Say it properly and I'll think about it."

"Fucking Bastard…fine. Doakes," he started, looking directly into the dark brown eyes above him, his voice barely a whisper, "Please Doakes, fuck me. I can't take it. God, just take me, plea-"

He didn't get to finish as Doakes descended upon his lips, not able to hold himself back any longer. The way he said it sounded so fucking fake but it sounded so bloody sultry to the ears. Hell, he knew it was fake, but just the thought that he made Dexter sound as such was too much for him. The little bastard was a good actor when he wanted to be.

The hand holding the bound analyst's member squeezed tightly. He gasped, letting the dark skinned Sergeant plunge his tongue into the warm cavern, exploring every little crevasse he could reach. From this, he concluded that the man beneath him tasted good, almost sweet. He couldn't help but moan. He pulled back, enjoying as the blood-spatter analyst gasped for breath.

He slowly slid his fingers from the stretched hole drawing a hiss from Dexter and slowly began to strip himself of his own clothes. He fumbled as he unlatched his belt, followed shortly by his button and zipper. He discarded the tight, muscle shirt and belt, soon being thrown across the room. The rest of his clothes were gone in a matter of seconds, leaving the two men completely nude.

Doakes raised Dexter's legs, positioned himself at his entrance. He pushed in slowly, drawing a gasp and shiver from the man below. He paused as he was completely sheathed within the tight crevasse. He groaned as Dexter shifted.

"Keep moving." The analyst growled out.

It took no more for Doakes to pull out and slam back in. This continued on as Doakes slammed in and out of the bound man beneath him, a rhythm that continued on, not slowing. Dexter let out low moans and gasps as his prostate was repeatedly assaulted.

Doakes let out a muffled moan as the walls around him clamped tighter. Dexter arched into him. Both were coming close to their climaxes and the pace increased.

"Doakes!" Dexter let out a final cry, white flooded his sight as he came.

Doakes growled as Dexter's scream echoed in the air and the tightening feeling around his member. He came then, shooting his hot seed into the writhing man beneath him.

Doakes collapsed onto his elbows, keeping himself hovering over the blood spatter analyst. He looked down and smirked at his work. Dexter's eyes were closed, his body still shaking from his orgasm. He was covered beautifully in sweat and semen. His dirty blonde hair sticking to his forehead in thin strips. Doakes moved his hand up, wiping the hair from closed blue eyes.

"Get off." Dexter groaned, shifting into a more comfortable position.

Doakes laughed at the smaller man's attempt to shake him off but complied. He slid out none too gently, bringing a hiss from the other. He stood up, looking around the room, spotting his clothes up against the wall behind him.

"Seeing that you're done, how about unlocking the cuffs." Dexter said, glaring through exhausted eyes as the man dressed.

The dark skinned man just laughed, shaking his head and continuing to dress, "I'll think about it. I like you down there."

He rolled his eyes, "Childish."

"What was that? Are you aggravated, Dexter?" Doakes mocked with a smirk on his face.

"If you can call it that." He replied, "I don't much care for being tied up longer than what is necessary."

Doakes, fully dressed, walked to Dexter's side and kneeled down, holding a small key in front of him, "You want the fuckin' key, Dexter?"

"How much longer are you going to call me by the first name?" He said.

Doakes gave a snort, "As long as I fuckin want to."

"Just unlock the damn thing, then. You are already finished displaying your animalistic need to act like a dumb ass." Dexter said, getting a laugh from the older man, "Unlock the cuffs before you make even more of an ass."

"Your right. Why would I need another ass when I already had yours?" Doakes laughed, sticking the key into the cuffs.

Once Dexter was free, he sat up with a groan and rubbed his lower back. He looked to Doakes, still kneeling beside him. He balled up his fist and before the man could react, Dexter's fist connected with his jaw. He went down on his back, staring in shock at the ceiling. When he heard ruffling, he sat up, looking to the blood spatter analyst as he dressed, facing away from him. A smile split onto his face.

"Since when have you been able to hit so hard?" He asked and when the half dressed man didn't answer, he stood up.

He stopped when he was a foot from the shorter man. Dexter already had his pants on and was now working on his ruined shirt, "I liked this shirt."

"So fucking what? Get a new one." Doakes said, staring at the back of the blonde as he shook his head.

"I have two more." He deadpanned, "I like to be prepared. For the shirts I like, I have two extras. I have only two pairs of shirts my other shirts."

Doakes rolled his eyes as he moved closer, "Maybe I can ruin more of your shirts till you actually have a normal closet."

"I thought I did." Dexter said, finally giving up on the buttonless shirt.

He turned, looking up to the taller man. He was only inches from the other. They stood in silence, one staring with greed and renewed lust and the other a slightly curious glance. Doakes' hands shot up, cupping either side of the Dexter's face, to which he let out a yelp. The man dived, capturing Dexter's lips with his own. Dexter stilled, allowing the man to do as he pleased. At last, after several seconds, Doakes let go of the still analyst.

He smiled as he whispered into the man's ear, "I think I'll enjoy ruining all of your shirts. Maybe it was a good thing you buy extra shirts."

Doakes stepped away and with one final look at the analyst, he left.

"Interesting." He said, gathered his belongings and walked out into the main offices.

He walked up to the window and watched as Doakes casually walked to his car and drove away. Dexter smiled and too walked out of the office and to his car.

**END**

**Happy Eater everyone. I hope everyone likes it. **


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